


birthday cake wishes

by hailingstars



Series: we're all gonna be okay (whumptober 2020) [9]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Blood Loss, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Peter Parker, Kid Peter Parker, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Tony Stark Coparenting Peter Parker, Protective May Parker (Spider-Man), Teen Peter Parker, Trail of Blood, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:01:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26939314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hailingstars/pseuds/hailingstars
Summary: “About what?” asked Peter, then the realization hit him like a train. The only subject May and Mr. Stark had in common was him. “You guys have bimonthly meetings about me.”“We like to keep each other informed,” she told him. “He keeps me up to date with all the super-hero stuff and I fill him in on the rest.”Peter let out a groan to clue her in on how he felt about this. His mind was reliving the last couple of months, and suddenly everything was making much more sense, like how May knew he was cheating his Spidey curfew by thirty minutes, or like how Mr. Stark offered him help on his Calculus homework just as his grades started to slip.“This is cursed.”OR2 times May throws food at Peter + 1 time it gives him a bloody nosewhumptober day ten: blood loss, trail of blood
Relationships: Ben Parker/May Parker (Spider-Man), Happy Hogan/May Parker (Spider-Man), May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: we're all gonna be okay (whumptober 2020) [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947928
Comments: 20
Kudos: 208





	birthday cake wishes

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I don't believe we spent enough time talking about may hitting Peter in the face with a piece of fruit anyway have a good saturday

Seven candles burned stuck inside and blue and red cake.

May and Ben sang happy birthday, and Peter sat on the wooden kitchen chair, watching the flames eat up the wick and wax. He tried a smile, as the song finished, because his aunt and uncle did everything, they could to give him a happy birthday. Peter just didn’t feel very happy.

“Make a wish, Pete,” said May. She smiled and sat in the chair across from him.

Peter paused, trying to think of something to wish for, something besides what he wanted most, which was to see his parents again. He knew that was impossible. Not even the combined magic of birthday cakes and turning seven could bring the dead back to life.

He closed his eyes, wished for happiness to come to him someday, and blew out the candles. Though he couldn’t imagine ever truly being happy without his mom and dad, he hoped there was still enough birthday magic around to help him live in a world without them, a world that had a gaping, giant hole right in the middle of it.

Aunt May cut the cake, put a slice on Peter’s plate, and Uncle Ben left the table, apologizing over and over again that he had to take a call. That there was a problem at the fire station, and as chief, it was his job to help the crew figure out how to solve it.

Peter moved around pieces of his cake on the plate. He was busy crushing some icing under his fork when a piece of cake hit him in the forehead. Across the table, his Aunt May was grinning at him, her fork raised leaving Peter to guess she’d just used it as a catapult.

“Hey,” said Peter. He wiped the icing off his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. “You can’t throw food.”

“Why not?”

“Ms. Presley who watches the cafeteria says so.” It wasn’t the first time Peter seen a fork-catapult being used, just the first time he’d seen a grownup using it.

“Well this is my kitchen,” said May. “And I say we get our weapons ready for when Ben comes out of his office.”

Peter couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. He nodded and loaded his fork with cake.

They both crouched, shoulder to shoulder, with their eyes just barely peering over the table, ready to ambush Ben when he walked back into the kitchen. Their moment came as Ben rejoined them, saw them, and opened his mouth, most likely to ask what they were doing hiding under the table.

May’s cake hit the front of Ben’s shirt, but Peter’s hit Ben’s left glasses frame, something that caused the aunt-nephew to burst into laughter.

“Oh right, that’s very funny,” said Uncle Ben. He was smiling as he took off his glasses and cleaned them with the bottom of his sweater. “Real mature.”

May stood up and shrugged. Ben put his glasses back on and looked down at the table, at the cake with only three slices cut out of it. Before Peter could think anything of it, Ben had the whole cake in his hands and started chasing them out of the kitchen with it. May and Peter were behind the couch in the living room when Ben dumped the cake on both of them.

It turned to madness after that. An all-out cake war, with blue and red icing in their clothes, in their hair, smeared all the wall. Cake crumbs were crushed into the carpet, the couch, and somehow, there were bits stuck to the ceiling, held there by icing.

It ended with May and Peter, once again hiding under the kitchen table, this time holding a cookie sheet in front of both them. It ended with Ben surrendering, crawling under the table with both of them, and laughing that lasted the rest of the end, even as the cleanup began and Ben held Peter on his shoulders so he could wipe down the ceiling with a cloth.

*

Peter and Ned had been waiting for this night to arrive for centuries, and they were bouncing on the heels on their feet as they waited in line outside their favorite movie theater.

Star Wars was finally back, and opening weekend was finally upon them, and it took _forever_ to move through the ticket taking line, to get their snacks, and to find their seats.

It took longer for the lights to dim, and for the previews to come on. For the first time in his life, Peter didn’t care about watching the trailers for upcoming films. Seemed like everyone else felt the same way, as the chatter in the theater didn’t die until the familiar Star Wars theme song played and the screen crawl scrolled across the screen.

That was when he felt something hitting the back of his head.

He turned in his seat, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, just regular people looking straight ahead at the screen, so Peter tried to forget about it and turned his head back around.

Except it happened again. Then a second time, and then a third. When he finally turned back around, some popcorn fell out of his hair.

“Dude,” whispered Peter. “Someone’s throwing popcorn at me.”

“Uh huh,” said Ned, his hand deep in the popcorn bag, his voice robotic, and his eyes glued to the screen. Trying to hold a conversation with him at that point was worthless.

Peter sighed, and went back to watching the movie, except that time, when popcorn hit the back of his head he turned faster, just in time to see May and Mr. Stark fail to duck their heads and avoid being seen. Once they realized Peter had seen them, Mr. Stark smirked, and May waved.

He sunk down in his chair, groaned, but ultimately, got sucked into the movie and forgot they were even there, at least until the evening ended and Peter arrived back at his apartment.

He sat down on the couch next to his aunt and gave her a look. The same one she’d used on him after he and MJ accidentally stayed out too night. “May, what were you doing out with Mr. Stark?”

Aunt May stopped her knitting project and told the TV to pause, a function Mr. Stark just _had_ to upgrade their entertainment center with.

“We weren’t out together,” said May, and continued when Peter opened his mouth to interject. “Not in the sense you’re thinking.”

“Are you guys dating?”

May laughed. “No, Tony and I aren’t dating.”

“Then why were you at the movies together? And why did you have to pick the _same_ theater Ned and I were going to?”

“That part was an accident. You know, you and Ned aren’t the only ones who like Star Wars. Some of us were alive were the first trilogy came out.”

“Oh.”

Peter propped his feet up against the edge of the coffee table and sunk into the couch cushions, as a very familiar feeling of guilt settled over him.

It was in this living room where Peter saw Star Wars for the first time, tucked between May and Ben, on the couch that existed in the apartment before they upgraded the furniture a couple of years ago.

He’d had the Chicken Pox and was upset he couldn’t go on the class trip to the zoo, and to distract Ben had declared that it was an absolute tragedy that he’d never seen a Star Wars movie. That it was a great thing that he had the Chicken Pox, because now they could spend the next few days binging them all.

And they had.

Their small, strange family watched the entire series in the space of days.

And now, Peter felt like an asshole for not even thinking May might want someone to see the premiere with. Someone who knew Ben.

“I’m sorry, May, we should’ve gone tog – “

“Oh, honey,” said May, reaching out to give his shoulder a squeeze. “I love you, but no.”

“What?”

“Nothing makes me happier than seeing you live your life. Going out with your friends on a Friday night, that’s how it should be,” she told him. “Besides I was busy tonight. I had plans with Tony.”

“Who you’re not dating.”

“Nope, definitely not dating. It’s kind of, more of a bimonthly business dinner.”

“About what?” asked Peter, then the realization hit him like a train. The only subject May and Mr. Stark had in common was him. “You guys have bimonthly meetings about me.”

“We like to keep each other informed,” she told him. “He keeps me up to date with all the super-hero stuff and I fill him in on the rest.”

Peter let out a groan to clue her in on how he felt about this. His mind was reliving the last couple of months, and suddenly everything was making much more sense, like how May knew he was cheating his Spidey curfew by thirty minutes, or like how Mr. Stark offered him help on his Calculus homework just as his grades started to slip.

“This is cursed.”

May laughed and returned to her knitting. The living room grew silence besides the occasional clanging of needles hitting each other.

“Maybe we can catch the matinee on Sunday,” said Peter, still thinking it might be nice to see Star Wars with her. This time the request not motivated by guilt. “Some really annoying people were throwing popcorn at me, and I missed the beginning.”

“Oh wow, they sound like fun people,” said May. “And I’d love too. How about I bring my movie purse and we stop by Stamis for takeout to sneak in?”

“ _Yes_.”

Peter lived for the return of his aunt’s theater purse, a giant and ugly hand-me down from her grandmother. When they got into their seats Sunday afternoon, both the smell of Greek takeout and the visual of the purse got them stares, but they couldn’t be bothered to care.

*

The aroma caught Peter from the hallway, and before he even unlocked the door to his apartment and went inside, he knew what kind of night it was going to be.

There were a few benefits of May dating Happy Hogan. The nights he cooked dinner for them was Peter’s favorite.

“Hey,” said Happy, from the kitchen, where he and May worked on dinner side by side. He pointed the spatula at him. “Don’t just stand around staring at us, get in here and help us out.”

“Seriously, Happy,” said Peter. He stepped further inside the apartment and let the door shut behind him, not even trying to comment on the fact that he had literally just stepped in the door and had only been staring a few seconds. “You don’t want me helping with dinner. I’ll burn the apartment building down.”

“It’s true,” said May. “Pete and fire don’t mix.”

“Good to know, don’t let Peter borrow a lighter,” said Happy. He left whatever he was stirring and grabbed a knife. “What about a knife? Mature enough for a knife?”

“Of course I’m _mature_ enough – “

“Great,” said Happy, he pressed it into his hands. “Get slicing.”

Peter gripped the knife but couldn’t help feeling like he’d been tricked in some way. “What exactly am I supposed to be slicing?”

“Here, Pete, catch!”

Except the avocado that May had thrown at him soared through the kitchen too hard and too fast. It smacked him straight in the nose and fell to the kitchen floor. Seconds later, there was a trail of blood going down Peter’s shirt and when he touched his nose, it was gooey. His fingers came back with blood on them.

“Out,” was all Happy said. “No blood in the kitchen.”

Peter set the knife down on the table, let May press a cloth to his face, and they walked to the bathroom together.

“Oh Peter,” said May, as Peter sat down on the toilet seat cover. He pressed the cloth against his nose. “I’m so sorry. I thought you’d see it, with your Peter tingle and all.”

“I thought we decided we’re going to call it my spidey sense.”

“I like Peter tingle better,” she said, with a smile. She walked deeper into the bathroom and took a seat on the edge of the bathtub. “You haven’t had a bloody nose since you were a little boy. Remember?”

“Jake Smith?” Peter laughed.

“That kid was such a little punk,” said May. “And his mother… let’s just say, I had a few words with her, and she was lucky it was only over the phone.”

“May,” said Peter, titling his head back. “Ned and I were listening at the door. You called her a kriffing, stuck-up – “

“I can’t believe you two were listening to that!”

“You were yelling. It was hard not to hear.”

“Well she deserved it,” said May. “Her son bullied every child on this street and she had the audacity to tell me he was just helping the other kids get used to what real life will be like…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “Except you. He didn’t pick on you, until you stuck up for Ned. Ben was so proud of you for that.”

Peter took the cloth off his nose and tossed it into the sink. Just for something to do, something to prevent himself from thinking about Ben, or his parents. Everyone he’s lost.

“May,” said Peter. “Are you happy? I mean, does Happy make you… happy?”

“Sometimes,” she said. “And sometimes I’m sad. Happiness is fleeting, Peter, it isn’t a constant. I think it’s just about finding someone who can be present with you, through the ups and downs.”

Peter nodded, understanding something he couldn’t when he was seven and freshly orphaned.

“And Happy’s that? For you?”

“Yes, I think he is.”

“Good,” said Peter. “You deserve it… just please do me a favor… don’t throw any more food at me.”

May laughed.

“And don’t tell Mr. Stark about this at your little meetings, okay? That avocado was _not_ ripe… it was hard as a rock.”

“Whatever you say, Pete,” she told him, as she left the bathroom and went back into the kitchen to help Happy with dinner.

Peter sat in the bathroom for a little while longer, thinking back to a wish he made when he was seven, and realized it’d been granted to him the very second a piece of cake hit his forehead, perhaps even sooner.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading!!
> 
> comments and kudos let me know what you think!! 
> 
> [come shout at me on tumblr](https://hailing-stars.tumblr.com)


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